Beside the Forgetful River’s tributary, Qingchi knelt down weakly.

She hung her head, letting out an endlessly mournful sob, displaying an unprecedented vulnerability.

The freshness of youth, that innocent and budding joy and sense of reliance, hidden like a blossoming bud, slowly dissipated like a sand painting swept away by the wind.

The once unforgettable bond of life and death, vows transcending life and death, and the soul-stirring emotion of living and dying together, branded into her soul like a hot iron, all seemed like a extinguished flame, leaving only cold emptiness.

These were her past experiences with her beloved, her understanding and experience of love, all abandoned by Qingchi.

She had to do this; only by doing so could she save her beloved.

“I will save you, even if the price is… that I forget you, that I no longer love you!”

Yellow dust gradually appeared on Luosi’s body.

“Can’t hold it back anymore?” His expression changed slightly.

He had been fighting the Dishazhuohuishen for so long, enduring extremely heavy losses. The injuries he had been desperately suppressing finally erupted.

This time, he was powerless, forced to let the injuries progress, transforming him into a terracotta figure.

But his mind was not on himself, but on Ningzhuo.

“Impossible!”

“General Qing has sacrificed so much, taking out so many memories as bait.”

“Why, why can’t he reel in the young master?!”

Luosi felt extremely puzzled.

This was a huge misunderstanding!

Ningzhuo was impersonating Jiao Ma, not his true self, which misled Luosi. Qingchi had always been mistaken.

How could she reel in Ningzhuo with her memories and feelings for Jiao Ma?

“Damn it, so much time has passed. If this continues, even if the young master is pulled ashore, he will lose all his memories and become a blank canvas.”

Thinking of this, Luosi shouted, “Young Master! Why not actively discard your memories to lighten your burden, and then let General Qing pull you ashore!”

A cultivator’s divine sense would be washed away and submerged if it entered the tributary, but sound, surprisingly, would not.

Ningzhuo, immersed in the river water, moved his ears slightly, vaguely hearing Luosi’s shouts.

“Let me actively forget?”

“No, no…”

“Nothing can be forgotten. If I forget these, am I still me?”

The water of the Forgetful River sought to wash away his memories and emotions, while the Wofoxinmoyin suppressed his soul, resisting the immense power of the Forgetful River.

Memories and emotions were all stimulated, surfacing one by one with unprecedented clarity.

Ningzhuo was unwilling.

“In Huoshi Shan, the plan to acquire the Rongyanxian Palace is only halfway complete.”

Ningzhuo was filled with resentment.

“The enemy who caused my parents’ death has not yet been found. I still have a great vendetta to avenge!”

Ningzhuo was afraid.

“If I forget the memories of spending time with my mother, how will she be revived? In this world, only I am left for her.”

Ningzhuo was reluctant to part.

He thought of Sun Lingtong, and countless times fighting side by side with his boss.

He thought of Linghu Jiu, the blossoming of friendship in Wanyao Gu.

He thought of Mulan, his nominal wife. He still had meritorious rewards to collect in Liangzhu Guo.

He thought of the punitive expedition in Qianfeng Lin, how magnificent that strike of Tieliu Pingchuan was.

He thought of wearing the Cangtie Hanjia, soaring through the sky like wind with Sun Lingtong, competing with golden eagles, how exhilarating and inspiring it was.

He thought of Zhu Xuanji, Ning Jiufan, Lin Shanshan, Wuxingshenzhu, Liu Guanzhang, and Qingjiaojun.

When he thought of Qingchi, finally, his deepest and most hidden emotions surged forth, no longer concealed, laid bare.

Ningzhuo… felt ashamed!

“I am not the real Jiao Ma; this is just a coincidence, or perhaps the impetus of the Yangjian Cangtian’s qi luck.”

“Qingchi… I shouldn’t deceive her. But I never found the right time to confess to her!”

“And, Mother…”

Meng Yaoyin.

When Ningzhuo saw the giant paper figure resembling his mother at the south gate of Baizhixian Cheng, and when he heard the praises of Meng Yaoyin from the Baizhixian Cheng city lord, Wen Ruan Yu, and others, hearing of his mother’s benevolent deeds, Ningzhuo felt—ashamed.

“I am my mother’s child, but I am not like her, doing good deeds and acts of kindness. Even after leaving Baizhixian Cheng for many years, people still sing her praises, even erecting statues for her.”

“But…”

“But I am just a thief, a petty thief.”

What kind of existence was his mother to him?

Countless gentle caresses, tender encouragement, heartfelt expectations, a dying wish, and even after becoming an automaton, she tried her best to protect him until her spiritual essence faded.

“I want to save my mother, even if her soul does not exist in this world.”

“I want to trace the marks she left in the world.”

“I intensely, incredibly, want to understand her, to know more about her.”

“What kind of person was Mother exactly?”

When Ningzhuo arrived at Baizhixian Cheng, he received the first answer to this question.

Meng Yaoyin was the tall, towering paper figure, a monument of Baizhixian Cheng. Without her help, Baizhixian Cheng might have collapsed long ago. The unity between the Guiren ethnic group and the Human ethnic group was also due to her teachings.

And to completely eradicate the crisis in Baizhixian Cheng, she cooperated with the Huigu Laoren, unearthed the power of Xuan Su Shusheng, laid plans for decades to welcome the variable of Yangjian, the true savior.

“Undoubtedly, my mother is a hero!”

“Is the son of a hero just a thief? A petty thief?”

Li Leifeng and Zhu Xuanji’s expectant gazes reappeared before him.

Ningzhuo was no longer the patient youth he once was.

In the fruit orchard at the foot of Huoshi Shan, the huoshi, absorbing magma and geothermal heat, silently grew, waiting for the moment of its self-detonation upon ripening and falling.

Ningzhuo had already walked out of the Huoshi Shan in his heart.

He was no longer that huoshi, patiently enduring for years, seeking only a momentary immolation.

He came to Wanyao Gu, bearing criticism, doubt, and praise under the public eye, finally becoming a divine seed of the Five Elements.

He participated in the Liangzhu Guo Great War, and the broad-mindedness of the military strategists made the seed grow, sweeping away narrowness and filling it with magnanimity and courage.

He came to Yinchao Heishi Zhaodi, gazing up at his mother’s giant statue, gladly accepting his mother’s, and the Yangjian Cangtian’s, arrangements.

He wanted to follow his mother’s shadow, driven by the deepest impulse of a child’s heart to emulate his parents’ actions.

“The son of a hero should no longer be a petty thief!” He was deeply ashamed, and the plan to become a savior now presented itself before him.

It was like a ray of sunlight, shining on a seed buried underground at the most opportune moment.

This was an opportunity.

It was a gift from destiny, an arrangement by his mother, and Ningzhuo’s path to squarely address his shame. More importantly, it was his salvation, allowing him to stand tall and walk in the sunlight from now on!

He had already walked out of that Huoshi Shan!

He possessed the realm of the Five Elements, magnificent courage, yearning for light, pity for the tragic, and remembrance for the virtuous.

Like a seed sprouting, pushing out its tenderest shoot, seeking the sun.

Thus, such a Ningzhuo leaped into the whirlpool, without hesitation!

He debated with the traitor, racking his brains to make the most correct choices possible; a slight error could have led to a completely different outcome.

He underwent the peril of life and soul destruction, experienced several twists and turns, and exerted his utmost effort, finding the tiniest opportunity in the cracks.

He finally ascended the sacrificial altar and obtained the Tianguitougaigu!

He was swept into the Forgetful River’s tributary, plunging into a desperate situation.

Wangchuan Fojun!

How could such an existence be easy to deal with?

He was a monarch of a nation, a Huashen level, the ruler of the Wangchuan Difu, a ghost master who had schemed for centuries for his Dao!

Even though he was entrapped and besieged from all sides, overwhelmed, and severely restrained, he still relied on his strategy, combat power, and will to hold out until this last moment.

He pushed himself to the limit, fighting until exhaustion.

His old lair, Wangchuan Xiancheng, was on fire, and his Dishazhuohui avatar even disintegrated…

The losses were severe.

But with his final arrangements, Wangchuan Fojun could still put Ningzhuo to death!

And he was not the only one who suffered heavy losses.

Wuyin Guiseng, Huapi Luosha, Guihuo Fojun Yin Jiuzhu… and Luosi, whose entire body was covered in yellow earth, rapidly transforming into a clay figure.

He was immobile.

Qingchi knelt on both knees, gripping the fishing rod tightly with both hands, transforming all her memories and emotions related to herself and Jiao Ma into bait.

Her heart felt as if it was bleeding, as she had to make the cruelest decision against herself.

“First, give up memories, and try my best to preserve my feelings for Xiao Ma!”

“Even if… I completely forget Xiao Ma, this strong emotion will make me persevere and save him ashore!!”

Qingchi’s eyes were blurred with tears, as she gazed at the submerged Ningzhuo, crying out mournfully.

“Xiao Ma, Xiao Ma…”

“Come back quickly.”

“Let go of those useless memories and emotions, even ours…”

“As long as you’re alive, anything is fine. Even if you forget me.”

Wangchuan Fojun, far away in Wangchuan Xiancheng, saw everything unfold.

He kept his gaze fixed on Ningzhuo in the tributary, while exerting all his effort to manipulate the Mingjiao Jian.

His eyes flickered with a faint light, and a new realization dawned on him: “You are too stubborn, little ghost, and too shallow. Do you think the Yangjian Cangtian arranged for you to come here just to deal with me?”

“No, He is also arranging you!”

“The Forgetful River is a river of atonement. He is using my hands to immerse you, to wash away your sins, to cleanse your heart and mind, and to grant you another life.”

Ningzhuo was still doing his best to resist the washing of the Forgetful River.

“Qingchi, Luosi…”

He could hear Luosi’s shouts and Qingchi’s lamentations, but he stubbornly refused to relax even a little.

Ningzhuo had not truly refined the Wofoxinmoyin; he was only at the Foundation Establishment cultivation level, far from being qualified.

He could only do his best to support and utilize the power of the magic treasure, unable to control it freely.

He was very worried that if he relaxed even a little, it would spread from a point to a surface, leading to a complete collapse.

There was also another point…

“To become a hero, must one forget the past?”

“Not to mention whether forgetting oneself can truly represent the washing away of sins and the qualification for a new beginning…”

“Even if it were true, I would not do it!”

Because even if I am a thief, that is still me.

That is my way of survival.

That is the path I came from.

I would never deny my past, no matter how humble, ugly, dark, or unbearable it might be.

“Wofoxinmoyin, keep holding on!” Ningzhuo’s will was firm and unshaken.

If it were the main stream of the Forgetful River, he would have already taken other measures. But this was a tributary; having lost Wangchuan Fojun’s control and replenishment, it was a source without roots.

The Forgetful River tributary would also be consumed.

It had already suffered significant losses in resisting the ice coffin within it. Now, in attempting to wash Ningzhuo, it was also being consumed by the power of the Wofoxinmoyin.

“I’d rather drain you dry!” Ningzhuo’s fighting spirit soared.

He wanted to be worthy of his mother, and also did not want to forget any memories related to Sun Lingtong.

And at that moment, his descent suddenly stopped, and then he was pulled upwards by the hook, his entire body lifted a small distance.

“Hm?!” In an instant, Wangchuan Fojun’s expression changed dramatically.

Luosi was overjoyed: “The fishing technique is finally working!”

Qingchi’s face was no longer just pain and sorrow, but also showed a hint of joy: “All the sacrifices were worth it.”

It turned out that the memories she had sacrificed had reached the most recent ones.

All the memories of the Baizhixian Cheng defense battle were experiences she and Jiao Ma (Ningzhuo) had shared.

These memories were effective for Ningzhuo himself.

Qingchi’s joy immediately faded, and a mist of confusion swirled in the depths of her eyes.

“Where… am I?”

“What am I doing?”

“Saving someone? Why am I saving him?”

Even though she had lost all her memories, the emotions she had deliberately preserved were abundant and strong.

Save him, she must save him, even if it cost her life!

Qingchi lifted her arm with effort, slowly pulling Ningzhuo up.

Wangchuan Xiancheng.

“You won’t succeed!!!” Wangchuan Fojun roared, his face now twisted in a ferocious, extremely tense expression, completely devoid of the composed demeanor of a monarch.

Ningzhuo held the Tianguitougaigu in his hand; if he were to be rescued because of this, Wangchuan Fojun’s century-long plan would be completely ruined.

Wangchuan Fojun would never allow this to happen!

For a moment, he desperately manipulated the Mingjiao Jian.

His string of beads was completely damaged, but only a thin layer of the ice coffin remained in the Forgetful River tributary.

Wangchuan Fojun’s previous hard work still yielded results.

The Mingjiao Jian in the ice coffin had already been eager to move, projecting its power outside the ice coffin.

If Wangchuan Fojun’s main body were here, he could easily retrieve this national treasure, thereby beheading Ningzhuo and the other petty thieves in one fell swoop!

But Wangchuan Fojun was currently far away in Wangchuan Xiancheng. Even the forces he had dispatched immediately to the sacrificial altar battlefield had not yet arrived.

He could only transmit his divine sense and magical power through the Jietian Lian Di Dazhen, remotely activating the Mingjiao Jian.

The Jietian Lian Di Dazhen was extremely dilapidated, but its core part was well-preserved. The sacrificial altar battlefield was the core, allowing Wangchuan Fojun’s influence to be transmitted.

The Mingjiao Jian vibrated fiercely, emitting a faint glow from its blades, pushing against the surrounding layer of ice coffin, and fiercely crashed towards Ningzhuo, who was submerged in the tributary.

“Not good!” Luosi exclaimed in his heart.

His entire body was covered in thick clay, with only a small part of his original face remaining.

Ningzhuo did not see the Mingjiao Jian attacking.

He had his back to the ice coffin.

In the waters of the Forgetful River, divine sense was ineffective; it couldn’t leave the body to cover anything, or more precisely, it would be instantly washed away.

Ningzhuo was fully supporting the Wofoxinmoyin, completely unable to attend to anything else, not even able to manipulate the Renming Xuansi to convey one or two words of information to Qingchi.

At this moment, he was like fish on a chopping block, at the mercy of others.